


Wilderness Of Your Intuition

by sian1359



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, Epiphany, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-29
Updated: 2011-10-29
Packaged: 2017-10-25 01:42:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/270334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sian1359/pseuds/sian1359
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney finally figures it out</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wilderness Of Your Intuition

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Roads to be Taken](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/5133) by antares04a. 



> Written for the 2011 SGA Reverse Big Bang; fic companion piece for antares04a art piece Roads To Be Taken. A few typos and some stupidity has also been cleaned up in this posting. If I didn't find them all, feel free to let me know.

Rodney knew why he'd woken up with his hand on his dick and John on his mind. Today was the day he was returning to Atlantis, and while he'd needed his sabbatical more than he'd like to admit, his subconscious was more than ready to be home. It looked like his subconscious had also been better than his conscious mind in putting the whole Jennifer thing behind him.

He'd been good while he and Jennifer had been together, willing to put his entire being into being with her, which meant no more fantasies about John, Sam, Katie or Teyla – not even the hot supermodel on the front of the Sports Illustrated swimsuit cover. Now that he and Jennifer had amicably parted ways, however, it seemed his body was ready to get back in the saddle, and his subconscious had chosen John, and Rodney was quite okay with that. He wasn't sure he was ready to give up on the idea of marriage yet, despite what had happened with Katie and Jennifer, but he certainly wasn't going to remain celibate while he looked for a likely new candidate either. Going home to Atlantis made the choice obvious, and Rodney was quite looking forward to a homecoming with John as much as to their city.

It didn't take more than a couple of pulls and squeezes for Rodney to finish himself off; he had a varied and inventive selection of previous encounters to be able to recall. For all that John was a hands off kind of guy in public, not even comfortable when Teyla hugged him, John had always been a generous and enthusiastic lover. Not to mention flexible, both in body and in experimentation, never turning down one of Rodney's suggestions even if afterward they'd ended up decided not to pursue some specific kink or position again. Jennifer hadn't been too vanilla either, but she'd liked to call the shots when they weren't simply being close or romantic, and John, well… Rodney liked taking charge in the bedroom even if he had been the one getting fucked, and John had simply liked Rodney. And trusted Rodney.

That trust was something Rodney had never tried to take for granted; all the more so after the fiasco between them on Doranda. That kind of unconditional trust hadn't been something Jennifer was ready to give, otherwise she wouldn't have kept trying to get Rodney to change some of his personality traits. Even though Rodney did still love Jennifer, it would be nice to not need to improve himself to someone else's expectations.

To go back to the people who liked him just as he was.

*****

Although ready to bitch about not having warranted a lift back to Atlantis on one of the ships like Sam's _General Hammond_ , upon stepping into the puddlejumper, Rodney was hit by a sense of contentment he'd never noticed before. At least something he'd maybe never acknowledged before. From day one the pilots had anthropomorphized the Ancient spacecraft – John being the worst of them – but Rodney was the gene carrier who spent the most time in the gate ships and had never once been inclined to attribute emotions to the craft, or to himself with regard to the neural interface between gene and tech.

Today, though, Rodney could almost understand the others' needless romanticism, as any anger over the slight of having to wait with a handful of new arrivals and soldiers as if he was just any other person going to Atlantis, was swept away in something almost like euphoria..

The pilot seemed to be grinning too, sharing a look with him that none of the others could match or understand, not that they weren't buoyant with excitement all their own over what lay in store. This unexpected sense of fellowship with the pilot almost made up for the lieutenant not being John (because even if Rodney didn't warrant time out of Sam's busy schedule, surely John could have taken the time to be the one handling the jumper's controls). For a moment, Rodney was even convinced the pilot was going to ask Rodney to take second seat at the flight controls, only then the rest of the soldiers started packing themselves in, taking the rest of the seats in the cockpit, with a major taking the co-pilot's seat despite her obviously not having the Ancient gene. Rodney waved it off and took up a center position on one of the back benches, immediately pulling out his laptop and setting several folders to either side of him, taking up extra room but it wasn't like the other five couldn't squeeze in on the bench across from him.

Or that he actually said anything about one of them not taking an end position on his bench; if they weren't bold enough to make their claims about something as trivial as seating, there was no way they'd be speaking up for their research, and Rodney was already making notes in his head about checking over the qualifications of this new batch of scientist. And about berating Zelenka for choosing them.

Although he supposed these fellow civilians could be IOA foisting. As far as Rodney knew, Woolsey was still the IOA's man on the spot, heading up the expedition, but from what little Radek had implied in the few times they'd corresponded on some portion of Rodney's private research in the early weeks of his sabbatical, the rest of the IOA had taken to convening their bi-monthly meetings within the city, with a couple of them actually taking long term quarters on Atlantis instead of being ferried back and forth to the home countries. No doubt the members were throwing their weight around now that they could. Rodney had no doubt certain people were being added to the returning expedition based more on politics than qualifications.

With the city stuck on Earth for a few more weeks before it could return to Pegasus, Rodney didn't want to think about the political games he was going to have to play himself to regain the ground he'd lost in turning over his authority and on site projects to Radek for the last six months.

He suspected he'd have to do a little groveling too. First to Zelenka for sticking him with Rodney's job, in particular as Atlantis was temporarily in the IOA's (and the SGC's) backyard, but also to Carson and John for falling out of touch after the first few weeks. Especially to John for not even coming back to say goodbye when Teyla and Ronon had elected to return to the Pegasus galaxy once it had been obvious the IOA's decision about Atlantis wasn't going to come quickly if ever positively. Rodney hadn't been ready for goodbyes to his team, not ones that might have proven permanent, so he'd taken a chapter directly from the John Sheppard book of social interactions: if Rodney refused to say it then he didn't have to believe it.

For just a moment, Rodney wanted to call Jennifer, either to get points for having learned a modicum of emotional sensitivity – or to bitch her out for teaching him the same. It had been easier not caring about how other people might be affected by his decisions.

"– in charge?"

Rodney realized he was being addressed. He reluctantly turned his attention from his research notes to his companions. Before he could ask that the question be repeated, however, the younger of the two female scientists spoke first.

"I've heard he's pretty difficult to please." She frowned, though there was a hint of preening underneath, as if she relished dishing the dirt. "That he's always expecting so much from his people, but also too often caught up in his own research and responsibilities to even remember your name."

Well, yeah, but when every decision, ever single effort, task or operation could turn into a disaster given how little they _still_ understood about the Ancients and their tech, much less the city nee starship, who could blame him for mixing up a few Graysons and Graydons? Justifying that, however, or even explaining his management style and work ethic was not how Rodney was about to start any relationship with his new minions, much less actually apologizing.

"I've heard it's worth it, though," one of the younger men spoke up next. "He's supposed to be the expert. They say that not even Samantha Carter knows as much as he does, and not just about Atlantis."

That was more like it –

"Are you sure?" Another one of the obviously just graduated guys questioned. "I googled him and he's published nothing recently other than some pretty tame stuff. If you go back some years it's even worse, with everything based on theories that got him laughed at. He's –"

"Been working for the United States government on classified projects while you were still learning that Spongebob wasn't real," Rodney growled. Enough was enough.

"Didn't you read your own disclosure agreements?" he continued, feeling more like himself than he had for months. "Being tapped for Atlantis, and believe me that's going to get reviewed, you should have already acknowledged that most of your research is going to be classified for years. If no one spelled it out for you before this, ninety percent of what's being taught these days is based on theories on par with those spouted in the Dark Ages compared to the reality. If learning about the existence of Atlantis – of the stargate alone – didn't have you throwing out ninety- _five_ percent of what you think you know and reevaluating the other five percent, you aren't going to last a month. It's damn hard to dumb things down enough to go along with the 'current' wisdom. Not to mention that some of us prefer not to have our names associated with publishing out and out lies."

"You've already spent time in the program?" the other woman asked, her tone at least holding a proper amount of awe that he wasn't green like the rest of them.

Rodney nodded, about to let her know not only for how long, but to list a few of his accomplishments. She, however, wasn't done.

"Oh, then you've met the CSO before, haven't you? Maybe even worked with Dr. Jackson?"

"Daniel Jackson is not Atlantis' CSO," Rodney squawked, too shocked and indignant to even properly take in the other woman's, "Oh my god, are you Jay Felger?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Rodney saw one of the four marines in the cockpit smirking, maybe someone he recognized not that he could put a name to him. He glared in return, memorizing the marine's face to bring up to John later, and maybe the grunt wasn't so dumb, because suddenly he was saying:

"Guys, that's Dr. Rodney McKay. _The_ Rodney McKay."

Well, okay, that was better –

"Oh, the guy who Dr. Jackson sent to Atlantis until they could bring the city home so Dr. Jackson didn't have to leave General O'Neill?"

Rodney turned his gaze on this newest speaker, someone else he thought he might have recognized though his brain was insisting on calling him Kavanagh, so obviously their initial meeting hadn't gone any better. He didn't know where to even begin deconstructing all the things wrong with neo Kavanagh's statement, except for the obvious.

"What are you, all sociologists and linguists, with no real degree amongst you?"

"I was first in my class at Carnegie Mellon," the most recent speaker said with a scowl.

"Carnegie Mellon?" Rodney scoffed. "So you're a liberal arts major."

This time he puffed up his chest. "I am a Doctor of Economics. Neoclassical macroeconomists was my specialty."

"That's even worse, but at least that means you're Woolsey's problem, or whichever other puppet the IOA might install before we head back to Pegasus." Rodney waved his hand at the _macroeconomist_ in dismissal and took on the others. What about the rest of you?"

As a group there were a few thick swallows, wide eyes and other signs of panic. As there should be.

The younger of the two women broke first. "My name is –"

"I don't care," Rodney interrupted. "I'll learn your name if you're actually worthy of being in my city. Or if you're stupid enough to get yourself killed inside of six weeks. What's your discipline, the level of your degree, and where did you earn it?"

"No," Rodney then interrupted himself. "Forget it, I don't want to know. Just tell me, can any of you contribute something useful? I don't suppose your fields of study included physics, chemistry or even biology? Engineering?

"I was a doctorate candidate in applied computer graphics technology at Purdue," the youngest woman offered.

" _Was_ , and computer graphics. You're an art major," Rodney scoffed. "And the rest of you, also art or maybe humanities, right? Not just worthless, but you'll be dead in six weeks, the lot of you. Or pleading to be sent back to Earth."

Obviously the IOA had decided if they couldn't keep Atlantis on Earth, they needed to make sure it would be useless in Pegasus too, by populating it with economists, lawyers and social workers. A grand plan of Manifest Destiny all over again, but couched in a veil of today's political correctness.

Rodney immediately waved off the multiple protests. "Yes, I'm obviously a horrid boss. Fortunately for you – and me – assuming you are all students of useless disciplines, you won't be working for me."

"You can't –"

"Actually, yes, I can. I was chosen by Dr. Elizabeth Weir to head the science division on Atlantis, not Daniel Jackson. If Mr. Woolsey or the IOA tapped him to be running things in my absence, it was no doubt as a sop to someone's bruised ego now that SG-1 is effectively disbanded, and because there is nothing critical going on while Atlantis is on Earth other than prepping the return to Pegasus. You five are obviously filling someone's quota and a sop to the bureaucrats who don’t have a clue as to our purpose on Atlantis or our duties to the people and civilizations already inhabiting the Pegasus Galaxy. I can tell you right now, they don't include telling civilizations older than our own how they should be running their governments, nor convincing them to adopt the SGC's quasi economic or legal systems."

"Sorry to interrupt, but we're coming up on Atlantis," the pilot suddenly called back.

As one, the liberal arts brigade rushed up out of their seats and crowded around the doorway into the cockpit. Rodney was only mildly tempted; the sight of his city resting on the water was magnificent no matter what planet, and if he remembered correctly, the waters surrounding Hawaii, which was where Atlantis had been relocated once it had become obvious someone was going to find it, cloak or no cloak, just sitting off the bay near San Francisco. Rodney needed only close his eyes to recall an image, however, one that could never be tainted by the idiots now gushing about what they were seeing. It was John's unguarded smile even more than Rodney's first cockpit view of Atlantis herself that he remembered. Something Rodney was really hoping to see in replay once he landed.

Rodney let the gasps and murmurs of his companions fade into the background, instead following along with is mind's eye as the pilot relinquished control of the jumper and let Atlantis bring them home. His moment of zen lasted through the landing, but the second the jumper set itself down, Rodney could feel something was off. He was on his feet in an instant, reaching for the hatch release with no regard to the pilot's – or the major's – intentions. At least he wasn't tripping over or having to push through the idiots, as they'd stayed clustered around the cockpit and were no doubt now waiting for that major to tell them what to do.

Beyond the jumper's slowly descending hatch, Rodney could make out the usual set of soldiers watching cautiously, guns in hand but not directly pointing at the back hatch. Woolsey stood behind the front two, along with another couple of people Rodney recognized from his IOA debriefings before he and Jennifer had taken their leave. No sign of John or Zelenka but, yes, there was Jackson, rushing in through the door to the hanger and saying something that hardly mitigated Woolsey's pinched expression.

Rodney pounded down the ramp toward Jackson, with only a brief thought that he wasn't going to be erasing Woolsey's mood either; now that he'd step out into Atlantis proper, he could see the problems he'd felt were worse than he'd feared. Atlantis felt muted, not just with a gloomy light level that apparently extended beyond the hanger bay, but unnaturally quiet. It was similar to the expeditions first moments in the city, tomb-like in a way, but even that hadn't lasted long enough to fully register because John has been there before Rodney, bringing the city back to life with just his presence thanks to the strength of his ATA gene.

They'd run the city for nearly a year off of only naquadah generators, and Rodney knew Atlantis had a ZedPM running the city systems this time; even if one of the IOA idiots had wanted to have the ZedPM removed for Earth's protection, naquadah generators couldn't have supplied enough power to run a city-wide shielded cloaking field to keep Atlantis hidden from sightseers and spy satellites. So this was something new, something inexplicable and, obviously, Jackson's fault since Atlantis hadn't been like this when Rodney had left Zelenka in charge of overseeing the city's operational systems.

"Jackson, what have you done to my city?"

"And hello to you, too, Rodney," Jackson said with a fake smile and fake sentiment. "Atlantis is fine, if a bit … dim. I have been assured everything is in working order and there is no cause for concern."

"If everything was working properly, I wouldn't feel like I'm working in the Batcave," Rodney challenged him. "What have you done? No, what have you allowed to be done? You didn't approve that idiot Melkoff's proposal to reconfigure the –"

"There have been no experimental procedures or changes enacted, Dr. McKay," one of the IOA stooges interrupted, coming toward him and Jackson while the other and Woolsey stayed back to greet the new arrivals. "We are not about to put Earth at risk by allowing unproven theories and wish-list projects to be tested during Atlantis sojourn here."

Even Jackson rolled his eyes at that, having turned just enough so that his back was to the official. Funny, how the IOA had sent the expedition to Atlantis in the first place for the express purpose of repurposing the technology left behind by the Ancients for Earth's use. Any time something significant had been found, like the weapon on Doranda or even the nanite extruder, it was 'figure it out Rodney, or we'll send someone who can', and damn the consequences. Now that it wasn't only the expedition who was at risk, though, nothing was so important and even established projects had likely been curtailed.

"I've been assured that this is simply a matter of the city having difficulty in adapting to its new environment, not just in being on Earth, but from having the local stargate disabled so that the Cheyenne Mountain one acts as primary. That we're in something like a stand-by mode."

"That sounds like the kind of drivel Bill Lee would come up with," Rodney jeered at the official, not giving a damn about the frown he received in return. "Lee, or Kavanagh –" Rodney rounded back on Jackson. "Tell me you did not authorize Ben Kavanagh's return, Jackson."

Jackson held up his hands as if suing for peace, and shook his head. "He and Bill are both at Area 51, working on restoring the weapon's chair. The stand-by theory came through consensus including Drs. Zelenka and Simpson, once no one could find any reason behind the power usage."

Rodney was reasonably mollified by that piece of information; Zelenka and Simpson were nearly as proprietary about the city as Rodney was, and they were decent engineers, otherwise Rodney wouldn't have left Zelenka in charge during his absence in the first place.

"So where are Zelenka and Simpson?" And John, but Rodney didn't say the last aloud. "I would have thought –"

"Waiting for you in the ZPM room, since they knew that would be the first place you'd head so you can see for yourself," Jackson cut in. He gave a nod to the IOA guy, mumbled something that might have been, "if you'll excuse us," then hurried to catch back up to Rodney as Rodney put the assumption to action and headed out.

Woolsey might have said something as they walked away, but Rodney wasn't concerned; Richard Woolsey might have been a dick in all ways when he'd first taken over from Sam in running Atlantis nearly two years ago, but he'd come around to understand that the normal niceties and practices of Earth didn't always apply when it came to Atlantis. Or one Dr. Rodney McKay.

"I'll leave it to them to explain why they're not exactly satisfied with the stand-by explanation, but suffice it to say, not even Sam could find cause for the diminished outflow when she gave it a look," Jackson expounded on the brownout as they reached the nearest transporter. "I've been told that when manual coding is implemented to various systems, the ZPM ramps back up and will maintain the baseline flow first established, but once manual control is returned to automatic, we get the regulator or whatever, kicking in and kicking things back down."

Rodney input their destination, listening to Jackson with only half an ear while coming up with half a dozen tests and conditions he'd want to simulate, along with the likely tests Zelenka had already tried. He wasn't surprised or even that upset that Sam had been called in. Yes, he should have been interrupted contrary to his threats that only something world-ending was worthy of cutting into his sabbatical, but he also appreciated that he had a team good enough to continue without him, obviously, given that Atlantis was still here, cloaked and resting atop the ocean instead of sinking to the depths below from some critical systems failure. Dim lights were inconvenient, not life threatening, and –

Rodney tuned back in as the doors opened to the corridor that led to the chair room, in time to hear Jackson say," – believe that Zelenka's theory that the city is acting moody isn't as far fetched as he thinks. I mean, I can see that after having five years with natural gene carriers aboard, Atlantis may very well now be cutting back on certain things for the gene analogs and us mundanes. Especially given the city has also been relocated not just to a new planet, but to a new galaxy. No doubt there are protocols –"

Rodney stopped, pulling Jackson back with him. "What did you just say? About the natural gene carriers?"

The look Jackson gave him was one of surprise and confusion. "Just that now that there aren't any natural gene carriers on Atlantis, the city might be feeling –"

"What are you talking about? What about John? Or Carson? Miko?"

"Once the announcement came through that Atlantis was going back to Pegasus, Miko took over Radek's position on the chair project at Area 51." Jackson spoke slowly, like there was something more wrong with Rodney than his reaction to what he was hearing.

"Colonel Sheppard and Dr. Beckett returned to Pegasus three months ago," he continued, even more warily. "During Sam's third trip back after taking Teyla and Ronon home. The IOA had authorized, well, basically a garrison post, as part of a compromise to the likelihood of keeping Atlantis here in case the Lucien Alliance threats against Earth are real. You didn't know about that? I know emails were sent."

Rodney shook his head, just barely able to keep himself from falling back against one of Atlantis' walls from the shock of it. No he didn't know and hadn't received any emails. Hadn't read any emails.

Most of the crap sent out from the SGC was nonsense or courtesy copies on some of the stuff Sam was tinkering with, or project reports about shit he didn't care about other than keeping up with what was going on, and those he'd pretty much set aside to be looked over later, when he wasn't so involved in his private research and had time to waste. Even the emails from Woolsey and Zelenka had been more a paperwork and management chore. Emails from Carson and John had tapered off when Rodney fell behind in responding, but surely he should have gotten something. Gotten another 'so long, Rodney' from John. He couldn’t believe his friends – his best friends – had left without saying goodbye.

"You do realize we're going to need to get them back in order to fly Atlantis home," was all Rodney said to Jackson, though, unable to take pity from Daniel Jackson of all people. " _All_ of them, so they can take turns in the chair. I am not going to expend the ZedPM any further than we have to by trying to duplicate the trip that brought Atlantis here."

Jackson nodded. "Sam's already scheduled to leave for Pegasus in a couple of days, taking Majors Lorne and Teldy with her to take over for John, plus Amanda Cole to cover Carson's duties. You'll only get Miko once she's done at Area 51, when the chair is operational again. After the Lucian attack on Icarus Base, it's a foregone conclusion that the Lucian Alliance will hit here. Teal'c has been able to convince a couple of the Jaffa ship commanders to add Earth to the scope of their patrols, and we're keeping our ships other than the _Hammond_ close to home, but the IOA either gets the chair back working, or they're going to keep Atlantis."

"Fine. I'm going with Sam. You obviously don't need me here for the initial prep work on this city if you've got Zelenka, at least not until we've got John or Carson here to handle some of the final details."

"Rodney, Richard is going to –"

"Woolsey knows how his bread gets buttered, Jackson. The only thing I will accomplish here over the next few weeks is to piss off his bosses. Well, unless you can get me O'Neill. You get me O'Neill to do John's job with the chair, then I can get some work done."

Jackson scowled. "That's not going to happen and you know it. You don't want that to happen anyway, McKay. This city is yours and Colonel Sheppard's, not mine or Jack's or even Sam's. Plus, Jack wouldn’t undercut Cam like that."

Of course Landry's boy scout had been sent over to take John's place. No doubt if Cameron Mitchell had had the gene, he'd be Atlantis' permanent military commander despite what John had done in Pegasus and in saving Earth. Rodney had the sudden, awful thought that maybe Landry hadn't waited for John to take on the newest Pegasus project, which might have accounted for why John would have left so quickly and without any word. He didn't want to ask Jackson, though, wasn't sure whether he wanted that to be true or not, since the answer either way would affect the future.

If he didn't hear it, he didn't have to believe it.

"Obviously I know my way to the chair room," Rodney gestured down the hallway and then to Jackson. "If you need to get back to the newbie handholding, I don't need the escort."

The look Jackson gave him this time could have been one from his own repertoire; a touch of horror and disdain underlying aversion.

"This group is Woolsey's new legal and sociology team, including the IOA's direct liaison with the Coalition and the Travelers. The less I have to deal with them, the better."

At least Jackson had his own drawn lines when it came to useless bureaucracy. Funny how those positions hadn't been filled immediately, when Atlantis still had direct representatives from Pegasus on board in Teyla and Ronon. It was easier, of course, to restructure Pegasian society when no one was around who might object to the presumption.

Easier, too, to get mad all over again about that, than to dwell on John and Carson's absences, and why neither of them had asked him to go along. Sure, he might have said no, depending on where he and Jennifer's relationship had stood when it had come up, but he would have found a way to visit or something, if he'd known he needed to.

He also might have said yes.

************

"Rodney, pacing back and forth isn't going to make the ship go any faster. Did you want to come in?"

Rodney wasn't surprised Sam had heard him as he stood outside her ready room; he was sighing as well as muttering at his tablet computer, fussing with the information he'd brought to present to her and still not happy enough with it to actually have broken down and called for her attention. They were a week underway, with most of another week still to go before reaching whatever planet John and the others had decided to house the base. He and Sam had certainly talked before now, though mostly in passing or when others were present. This time he'd been hoping to catch her alone, only now that the opportunity was presenting himself, he didn't want to take it.

"Rodney, get your ass in here," Sam called out again, with a touch of command in her words as well as the more familiar exasperation. And affection. He hoped.

"I haven't quite finished my presentation," he began, stopping at the open doorway. Not that he could manage to lean with the panache in which John always had. Sam had always had an open door policy when she'd headed the expedition on Atlantis, and Rodney was happy to see she hadn't changed now that she ran a starship. Of course, finding her here was more problematic as she seemed to spend most of her day either on the bridge of the _Hammond_ , or with her crew down in the engineering compartments.

"Which is fine, since you're not here to give me a presentation," she responded, now with that look of fond amusement he'd come to know quite well.

"Yes I have," he started to argue.

"Rodney, you forget, I _know_ you. If you were going to present some finding, you'd have asked for time during one of my meetings with the engineering or science staff, so you could have your theories lauded by more than just me." She gave him a gentler smile than was her wont when busting him on his ego, lessening the sting. She was also right, which Rodney never could find fault with even if it sometimes proved annoying.

"If you just wanted to bat some ideas around, you would have emailed me your bullet points first so I had some idea of why you wanted to use me as a sounding board, "she continued, waving Rodney to take a seat on the room's couch instead of the one of the two chairs opposite her desk. "And that all means that you really just want to talk, not about science or research or even how my new duties and life is going, but about what I know about what's going on in Pegasus. Or, more so, about what you _don't_ know,"

He shuffled in, slowly, but again she was right. Not that he'd wanted to admit it, even to himself.

"You're embarrassed, because it involves emotions," she then said as she got up and joined him on the other end, tucking her feet under her still terrific ass. "Let me say first that I am flattered that you've come to me even though you're uncomfortable. Don't spoil it by wasting either of our time pretending it's something else," she then spoiled the warm feeling between them herself.

Only, of course, she hadn't. Rodney always preferred people who would stand up to him and call him on his bullshit. Sam, Radek, John … Elizabeth.

"Okay, Great Carnac, so what, specifically, do I want to talk about?" he asked, setting his tablet down on the floor as they both got comfortable. He didn't want to think about poor Elizabeth.

"John Sheppard I would imagine," Sam said with an all too knowing, too sympathetic smile. "Not that I have the answers you're seeking."

Rodney couldn't pretend any shock; he and John had been very forthcoming about their occasional intimate encounters. She'd deserved such respect, nor had she been the type of person or military officer that would have used such knowledge against either of them.

Of course, during the first months of Sam's tenure, Rodney had been working out his relationship with Katie right up until his non proposal during the emergency quarantine, and by the time he and John had resumed anything afterward, it, too, had been short lived after Jennifer has started showing some interest in Rodney. Sam had understood better than even Elizabeth had, having been part of SG-1 for so long and living with that kind of closeness and dynamic, and from her own failed attempts to make a normal life with guys like Pete Shanahan. She'd never begrudge anyone from finding some comfort, regs and common sense be damned.

"I abandoned my team," Rodney admitted.

"They wanted to see you happy, Rodney," came Sam's quiet assurance. "You were trying to make a life with Jennifer, right?"

He nodded. "Only it was more me trying to make a life I thought I should have, not the one I actually wanted."

"So you're no longer together? She's not coming back to Atlantis?"

"We're still friends," he told her proudly. "Which is something of a novelty. Well, no, there is you and me."

"Our relationship wasn't the same," Sam protested in mock horror. "What alternate Sams and Rodneys did in another universe doesn't count."

Rodney relaxed under her impish grin, and again allowed himself the thought of what might have been – what apparently had been in an alternate universe. Although that he and Sam hadn't worked long term either.

"Actually, the here us and the Jennifer-me us did turn out to be pretty similar. I thought she was hot; that she'd make a great wife, and she liked me in spite of myself, and thought a relationship with me was fun and satisfying. Right up to the point when it was time to consider the future and we realized we weren't envisioning the same one."

Sam reached out to clutch Rodney's hand in a quick squeeze. "Better to have found that out before you got married."

He nodded. "Or had kids. Ultimately she wanted kids."

"But you don't?" Not that Sam was really making it a question.

She knew as well as anyone how Rodney felt about small children; Rodney had propositioned her often enough about the two of them making genius babies. Once she'd even said yes, in part to calling his bluff and to get him to stop, but they'd ended up seriously talking about during one of Sam's own time of concerns about whether she'd ever become a mother. Wanting to have a child as a legacy was not the same as wanting to raise one, or to give up his career for one. While Rodney had been more than willing to turn over most of his money to Sam if she wanted to go it alone, in the end Sam had wanted her child to have two parents who'd love and raise it, not just a sperm donor and a check book.

Rodney took a deep breath. "The kid thing wasn't the deal breaker, though it had made things more difficult. It turned out that Atlantis and the SGC was just a job to her. Something that was exciting and would look good on her resume, like joining an intergalactic Doctors Without Borders even if she could only claim working with the military in front line service. She thought her real life and career would begin _after_ Atlantis. I tried to fool myself into thinking I could feel the same, but …"

"But nothing will ever live up to being part of Atlantis," Sam finished for him.

He nodded. "How could anyone just go back to a life that was so boring? That was a lie?" he asked her.

Sam shrugged. "There's a reason few of us leave the SGC unless we're forced out," Sam pointed out, again squeezing his hand. "Especially for members of gate teams. Even those of us who stayed Earth-based have a hard time adjusting, and we still have some resemblance of a normal life in our downtime. You've seen it, though, not everyone adapts well to Atlantis and life in Pegasus and I would imagine for them, boring is a comfort."

Rodney could only think of being bored as one of his worst fears, one bigger now than being terrified about his survival. Not that he was an adrenalin junkie like John or Ronon or even Teyla. But he did now understand the concept behind Shakespeare's 'a coward dies a thousand deaths…'"

"Also," Sam continued, removing her hand to gesture toward Rodney's tablet computer, "for someone like Jennifer, her work is basically the same, whether in a hospital on Earth, or on Atlantis and in the Pegasus galaxy. Sure, she worked on alien life-forms and researched exotic viruses and cures, but the basic hows of her job and expertise stays the same, and she can still do those kind of things now without having to adjust her worldview. You and I, we _can't_ go back to pretending Einstein's relativity and quantum mechanics are the apex of our understanding, but we also can't participate in changing the way folks think the universe works, at least not until the program is disclosed and, frankly, I don't want to spend my time answering questions and justifying my silence, you know?"

Rodney nodded. Disclosure was coming; after what had almost happened with the Wraith, Atlantis coming to Earth and then the credible threats by the Lucian Alliance, the secret was going to be impossible to keep much longer. Rodney certainly intended to be on Atlantis for the bulk of the fallout and outcry, though he did look forward to coming back and pointing fingers a people like Tunney and Bill Nye.

"I imagine leaving the program is just as hard to contemplate for John as it was for O'Neill," Rodney speculated. "He's nearly physically incapable of walking away from the people and situations he feels are his responsibilities."

"I know that Jack was expecting John to steal a jumper if he had to, to get Teyla and Ronon home," Sam agreed. "That's one of the reasons I was authorized to make the offer to them and take the _Hammond_ back even while the IOA decided it was done with the Pegasus galaxy. And why Jack pushed for reestablishing some kind of forward base. Even now, at least before the IOA changed their mind about Atlantis, Jack's been half expecting to hear that John got killed, basically doing the kind of thing that Jack and Daniel had come up with when Daniel had stayed on Abydos the first time with Sha're."

"He wouldn't have done that to me," Rodney protested. "Well, okay, he would have, only he wouldn't have let someone tell me he'd died if it wasn't true."

Sam shrugged, her expression softening back into something more like pity than sympathy. "Yes, I'm sure he would have found a way to let you know the rumors of his death wasn't true, but he'd still have put himself into a position where he couldn't come back to Earth. To the Air Force he would have been ruled a deserter and possibly a traitor in doing that, assuming he then changed his mind and tried to return to Earth. And disregarding that, what does John have to come back for, Rodney?" she asked him, her expression now too penetrating.

"He hated his time on Earth after Helia, he has basically cut himself off from his family there, and if you had stayed with Jennifer, you would have basically cut yourself off from him."

"It wasn't like that when Jennifer and I were together on Atlantis," Rodney protested more vehemently this time.

"Of course it was, Rodney," Sam chided and shook her head at him. "Or it certainly would have become that. Or worse. He loves you."

"His team is his family. Of course he loves us."

"Wow, and you once called me a dumb blonde?" She laughed at him. "Tell me, Rodney, when you left John for Katie, who did he hook up with?"

"I don't –"

"Okay," she interrupted, "how about when you left him for Jennifer?"

"We aren't like that, Sam. We can't be like that. Even with the repeal of Don't Ask Don't Tell, it's not like we could get married, not and expect him not to be replaced on Atlantis before the ink dried on our certificate."

Sam snorted. "Who in the world convinced you that you have to be married to be in love? You just told me you chose Atlantis over a woman you planned to marry; that you'd prefer to live in Atlantis for the rest of your life. You also don't want to have kids, have pretty damn satisfying sex with John from what I've been led to understand –

"Sam!"

"– and you like hanging out with him," she rolled over his protest. "Not just in being part of his team but as his best friend. What part of all that is different for John?" she then asked. "What part of marriage are you missing if you have all of that? Other than recognition by legal entities that don't have much to do with your life anyway."

"Okay, maybe, but… "

"But nothing," she stopped him. "Get your head out of your ass. If you're not going to stay with him, then end it instead of expecting him to always welcome you back."

"I'm not some kind of abusive boyfriend and John is certainly no love-struck virgin. If he wasn't okay with the way things are between us, he'd –"

"He'd what? Sacrifice his own desires like he's been willing to sacrifice his own life, so that the people he cares about are safe or happy?"

Fuck.

********

Sateda was the last place Rodney expected Sam to have brought the _Hammond_. He supposed it was one of the few planets that had something like a proper landing field for a ship of the _Hammond_ 's size; the Travelers no doubt had their own space port equivalents, but Rodney doubted John would have started any new endeavor owing Larrin's people anything if he could help it. Not even for something as simple as landing rights. Probably didn't want her knowing Atlantis had more ships than just the _Daedalus_ and _Apollo_ at their disposal either, given her predilection of stealing ships and pilots.

Rodney couldn't image that Ronon had been happy about returning to Sateda, though, even if it had always made sense given the technology, equipment and even raw materials they could have salvaged from the destroyed civilization. As a whole, Pegasus worlds didn't scavenged, however, or the one who did were viewed with almost as much loathing as the Wraith. Elizabeth had set the precedent for following that common rule of law, and neither Sam or Woolsey had changed it. When Atlantis had gone looking to retrieve tech or materials instead of trading for it, it had always been on long dead and abandoned planets instead of those who might still have survivors somewhere to object.

There were still Satedans to object, but Ronon had become the de facto voice of the survivors, at least to other worlds if not his own people, by virtue of allying with the expedition. Lots of planets might have resented Atlantis's power in Pegasus, but few questioned it, certainly not after the Coalition had conducted and basically lost their mock trial condemning Atlantis. So if Ronon was okay with the Tauri using Sateda, by extension so was everyone else.

If the _Hammond_ needed to land, therefore, at least here it could without becoming some kind of pawn or trophy. The Wraith were less likely to pick up on the _Hammond_ 's presence here either, since they'd already rendered the world lifeless.

Sam had let Rodney get kitted up to come along with her. Although Evan Lorne had been along on this trip too, and would be taking John's place when he returned to fly Atlantis, neither Lorne nor that female major who'd joined the expedition their last year in Pegasus was part of the huge team Sam had picked to be transported down, leaving Rodney with only knowing or even recognizing her. Leaving Rodney to worry for his initial safety, though no doubt John would have brought people back to Pegasus who'd served on Atlantis already, and all of those marines and pilots understood Rodney's value. Plus, Sam wouldn't have included Rodney in her away team if they were going to be walking into danger, so undoubtedly his wholly rational concern wasn't actually necessary.

"Okay, so this is just a stop to throw anyone who might have tracked us off," Sam suddenly announced as she tightened her own straps. "We're going to set down about half a mile from the gate and observe before heading out, to make sure there are no watchers planet-side either. I'll be dialing the gate to another abandoned world before we dial to our people, so keep on your toes and don't hesitate to stop our progression if you see or hear something. Lieutenant Balfer, your team will stay on Sateda and maintain the gate as well as communications with the _Hammond_ , Sergeant Harris, your team will hold on Echo Two. Assuming I give the all clear, you two will be responsible for getting the supplies in motion."

Oh, well, that better explained Sateda, and the reason Sam had nearly twenty people transporting down with her. Rodney was happy to see prudence and paranoia were still the watchwords, that Sam and John at least were taking the dangers of Pegasus so seriously, and he had to wonder if that was why she was the one playing chauffeur so much. Not because she was the only female ship commander and, somehow not as capable of protecting Earth or running a war as the assholes like Ellis in the IOA's mind, but because Caldwell or Ellis had made their own trip only to disregard or shortcut the safeguards John had tried to establish.

Rodney took a position near Sam, content to be part of the second group being transported. Sateda, when they materialized, was still as broken and desolate as it had been the previous time he'd set foot here. He was happy to hurry after Sam's team, happy they weren't going to spend anymore time here than they had to, his eagerness to meet with his own team matched by a need to leave this place's ghosts behind.

Rodney supposed he should have figured out Echo Two would be the world were they had found Ronon and first lost Ford, the planet with the deadly atmosphere and killer UV. He didn't envy Sergeant whomever his team's extended sojourn here, although he knew they'd either finish their link in the supply line or break off and evacuate long before any of them were endangered by the inhospitable environment. Another world even the Wraith didn't bother with as a rule, which was the closest to a sure thing they could hope for.

It did make Rodney wonder where John's base resided, however. All of Atlantis' previous emergency, evacuation or regrouping sites would have been discarded if John was keeping the reestablishment of a presence here in Pegasus hidden even from former allies. When Atlantis had left to try and keep the Wraith from finding Earth, they'd only had time to recall their personnel from the active alpha and beta sites. The equipment and supplies had been left behind and no doubt those sites and the homes of several other caches had been looted once it had become obvious Atlantis was gone.

Stepping out onto Athos was as much as a surprise as finding they'd orbited Sateda. Although the Wraith hadn't bombarded Athos to the extent they'd ravaged Sateda, they destroyed the Athosian's homes and fields and had rendered the land near the stargate barren with no hope of recovery for at least several generations. Before Rodney could question whether Sam had misdialed or something, however, Rodney's radio squawked with a familiar voice.

"Welcome back to Foxtrot University, Emeritus and visitors," Sergeant Boyan Stackhouse greeted Sam.

Rodney looked, but couldn't see any marines, only figuring it out when Sam turned her head and let her gaze dwell on a suspiciously flat – and empty appearing – patch of ground for a few long seconds. Rodney immediately lamented the long term power usage of keeping a jumper under constant cloak as a sentry position, but had to admit it was still a pretty clever solution to probably limited manpower. Sitting in a grounded jumper was certainly more comfortable than hanging out in the woods nearest the gate to keep watch.

"Admissions had been notified of your arrival and you are clear to proceed," the sergeant continued. "The Dean says she's started the tea."

Sam smiled and it didn't take a genius to figure out the referenced Dean had to be Teyla. Sam and Teyla had enjoyed almost as close a relationship as Teyla and Elizabeth had, and Sam had liked the Athosian's 'stout' morning tea. Rodney snorted to himself at the whole university motif, since those were concepts that translated into most languages and as a code it wasn't all that secure, but then he recalled the name Stackhouse had given the base, and knew that John had let the lack of propriety speak for itself as he still observed SGC and military protocols.

Foxtrot University, or FU. Another concept that translated across many languages – including Wraith – though Rodney suspected the message wasn't solely for the Wraith or the Coalition members who might have seen through the required code names.

"And the Chancellor is…" Sam started to ask with a hint of concern, before trailing off delicately. She signaled for her team to start forward again; using the jumper as a base, they'd have radio transmission over miles.

"Temporarily in the company of the Dean of Medicine, but expected to return to work in a day or two."

Something else Rodney had no trouble interpreting, and didn't it just figure he thought as he stumbled over a stupid root or something. John needing Carson's services again.

"We'll stop in and pay our respects," Sam assured the sergeant, with a quick look Rodney's way although one of her marines was the one who steadied Rodney and got him back underway.

"Now, though, if you've got some spare students hanging around, we've brought some study materials we'd like to get stored."

"Happy news, Emeritus. We've lost some of ours and have gotten a little bored with the remainders. Any chance we should be organizing an ice cream social?"

"Sorry, no ice cream, but how does a pizza party sound?"

"Outstanding, ma'am. Outstanding."

Sam laughed "Terry, you heard that, right?"

"I did," came a voice that Rodney recognized belonging to the sergeant who'd been left back at Echo Two. "Pizza and beer is on the way."

Sam wasn't waiting for the gate connection to cut off and then start up again as Echo Two no doubt reestablished contact with Sateda and the resupplying got underway. Rodney had to work a little to catch up; he'd actually only gone back to Athos once after the Wraith attack that had led Teyla and her people to first relocate on Lantia. Elizabeth and John had offered all hands to help the Athosian gather whatever was left of their homes and civilization, with John suggesting that Rodney leave the initial wonders of Atlantis in that first week despite the precariousness of their own survival, to take a gander at one of the Wraith ships Sumner's marines had downed during the attack. Rodney had, of course, intended to refuse, but for a chance to see an alien craft before anyone else, well, Rodney hadn't been able to turn that down.

Wow. He'd never thought about it before, but no doubt if he had refused John, if he'd allowed someone less valuable like Radek or Peter Grodin be drafted, John would have chosen one of them to join his gateteam instead of offering the position to Rodney.

"Rodney, you can sightsee later," Sam chided him suddenly, and Rodney realized he'd stopped again, ostensibly looking at the remains of where Teyla had once lived. Staring or, more truthfully, woolgathering, he was obviously holding her up.

And stalling.

*******

Being instantly engulfed within Ronon's crushing embrace had Rodney wondering why he'd been so nervous. He'd barely even had time to realize Sam was leading them into the haunted ruins of the ancient Athosian city across the water, before he'd been beset by his gargantuan teammate. Ronon looked even larger and bulkier than he had when last Rodney had seen him, for having cut off his dreds. In addition to seeming bigger, Ronon looked younger, though that also might have been from being home again, back to the worlds and enemies he understood and could fight now that he'd spent some time where he'd been the alien.

Dealing so directly with the IOA had made everyone feel older.

Teyla was right behind Ronon. She beamed a warm smile Rodney's direction, but her first hug was for Sam. In another minute, other Athosians and former expedition members alike showed up to greet the rest of Sam's team like they were all old friends; obviously Sam had done this duty frequently. A mixed handful of the others broke off, heading toward the gate to collect the crates and pallets Sam had also brought them.

"It is wonderful to see you, Rodney," Teyla then greeted him when it was his turn before her. She eased him down into her forehead thing and that, more than anything else so far, told Rodney he was home and forgiven. For an instant Teyla looked around the rest of the arrivals, then turned back to Rodney with a small frown when she noted who was missing.

"Jennifer has retired from the SGC. And from being with me," Rodney acknowledged what she was too polite to actually ask. "The latter was mutual, and we're still friends," he added quickly, before her instant sympathy could undo him on top of the other emotions overwhelming him right now.

"Then I shall be happy for her, and happier for us that you've come to… visit?" she asked after her pause, linking her arm through his and taking them toward one of the buildings that Rodney could only just see had been restored once they were at its doorway. Anyone from a distance would conclude it as empty as it had been for hundreds of years.

"Yes, but only temporarily," he assured her, fascinated by what he was walking into. Little of the repairs seemed to be of Earth origin, which implied this city had not been quite so abandoned or at least for as long as he'd been led to believe.

Teyla stopped at his words, starting to frown again.

"No, not like you're thinking," he said quickly with a shake of his head and catching up her hand in a squeeze. "We're bringing Atlantis back, only we need John and Carson to make that happen. So while we'll leave just as soon as we can, we'll be coming back once we've gotten the city ready and can make the journey."

That news earned Rodney a very rare, full-body Teyla hug, the both of them then being crushed again by Ronon who'd obviously followed them in time to hear the news.

"Teyla, love, your son is – Rodney!"

By the time Rodney could extract himself from between Teyla and Ronon, Carson was before him and offering his own enthusiastic hug. For a moment Rodney understood John's near phobia of such intimate yet casual touching, then he was doing his own squeezing despite feeling claustrophobic and rung dry. Original Carson or not, this was the man who'd befriended Rodney first when he'd started to work with the SGC, and Rodney didn't have so many friends that he could dismiss one just because he was a clone. Or because Michael had been the instigator of his revival.

"I’ll go fetch Torren," Rodney could hear Ronon offer over Carson's blubbering and Rodney's own, maybe slightly, liquid responses.

"Thank you Ronon. Samantha, if you would…"

"I imagine you'll be wanting to see John," Carson suddenly said clearly in Rodney's ear, turning everyone else's conversations to white noise. "No doubt he'll be wanting to see you too, but if he's a bit snappish, well, you know how he is with being laid up."

"What happened?" Rodney asked, stepping away so he could see anything Carson's words might hide. "Wraith?"

"Nothing so serious, thankfully," Carson instantly reassured him as he also tugged Rodney to follow. He began leading Rodney away from the others and deeper into the new base.

"As you can imagine, there's been work to do to get these ruins in livable condition without giving away that anyone is here. Some of the remaining Athosians returned at Teyla's request, including young Jinto. Halling's son as you might remember."

Rodney nodded. Jinto had taken quite a liking to John, just as the rest of the Athosian children had, and John had been good with them in return. So during the times the team joined Teyla in her visits to her people, Rodney had more than once been guilted into playing on one of the teams in quasi-soccer, or roped into showing a group of would-be apprentices how to repair some piece of agricultural or farming equipment.

"By Athosian standards, Jinto's a man in his own right," Carson continued his story and continued leading Rodney away from the gate and away from any hope of finding his way back on his own.

"He is also very much a teenager, one not quite grown into his adult body and therefore occasionally clumsy. Last night, he was helping clear one of the collapsed areas and overestimated both his strength and his reach. He was carrying a handful of pipes and started losing hold. In his zeal to get it all back under control, he ended up clipping a pile of more debris and, well, John ended up with a broken ankle. A small price to pay given Jinto would have lost his arm had John not jumped in to help, but you know John. He's already chomping to get out of bed and to get back to work. I've had to refuse to give him something he can use as crutches so he'll stay put, and…" Carson stopped and shrugged.

"And he's pissed as hell," Rodney filled in the rest.

"More like grumpy, especially once he'd heard Sam had arrived. Fortunately she's only a few days early and not showing any distress, so it obviously wasn't an emergency." Carson shot Rodney a wary look over his shoulder. "Right?"

Rodney gave him a casual wave of dismissal. "No emergency. Just the IOA finally agreeing to let Atlantis go," he said with a large smile. "Only no one's around to fly her home."

"Her, is it?" Carson own grin widened, probably more at the news than Rodney's slip despite his teasing.

"Oh, shut up. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that nonsense, you know?" Rodney waved him off again. "Plus, all of _you_ have always called her her, so…"

Carson nodded. "Even I miss her presence, Rodney, though not the actual interfacing with most of her systems. It feels like a good friend is missing and I've occasionally found myself looking over a shoulder. Course, it could be that I was more missing you, you daft bugger," he changed thoughts suddenly and stopped to give Rodney another hug, though only one handed this time. "So you're done taking your holiday?"

Rodney nodded. "Done with Jennifer, too, by mutual and still fond agreement and, wow, I don't know that I'll ever get tired of saying that given how surprised you've all been to hear it," he responded to Carson's exaggerated shock. "I don't scare everyone away, you know."

"Aye, some of us manage to hang on to your friendship in spite of you," Carson agreed with one last squeeze before letting go and starting forward again. "So lets get you in to see John, while I figure out and let Sam know when I'm going to allow us to head back."

Rodney wasn't sure Sam was going to be happy about any long delay or, rather, the SGC and IOA were going to be angry and maybe concerned when the _Hammond_ didn't make it back on schedule. Not worried enough to send another of their ships of course, not unless she was probably a month or so delayed, but still Rodney expected Sam to take heat, and maybe John too since the injury wasn't due to an attack or even any off-world exploration.

Following Carson down a set of braced stairs, Rodney clung tightly to the railing, but so was Carson so he didn't feel any need to defend himself.

"It's to a large, empty room with access to water," Carson explained before Rodney could question why in the world they would have placed an infirmary on the other end of something so unstable and steep.

"There is also direct access from the outside, near a flat pavilion where a puddlejumper could land in an emergency, so it's not as foolish as you might think."

Which explained how they got patients down there, broken ankle or worse.

"How many jumpers did you scavenge?" Rodney asked, intrigued by the other part of Carson's statement. He'd not stayed on Atlantis long enough to take a count. Or to blame Jackson and object to the loss.

Carson stopped at the bottom landing and waited for Rodney to join him before answering, "two from Atlantis that the SGC let us take. We then reestablished contact with the Tower people once we started setting up the base and our echo points, trading for the last of theirs which turned out to be three. They've decided there is too much interest in them from bounty or fortune hunters still hoping for a payoff from the Genii, the Travelers and several other worlds, after two of their people were killed during several successful and unsuccessful raids. There had also been at least on crash from what I understand, with the pilot and the passengers dying as well as causing significant damage and more deaths to the village it had crashed in."

"You don't actually have that many gene carriers here, do you?" he asked, not ignoring the loss but since none of Mara's people were around, expressing any surfeit of sorrow seemed pointless. Rodney wasn't happy to hear that the Genii and others were still actively trying to get hold of jumpers for themselves, whether they had pilots to fly them or not. In principle Rodney wasn't against sharing Ancient technology or thought they had some inalienable right to everything, but practically, leaving useful or dangerous artifacts in the hands of people who could use it – or who'd use it against other worlds instead of the Wraith – wasn't a good idea either.

"John and I are the only natural carriers," Carson admitted. "But we brought two marines who had success with the modified gene therapy. So we've one spare jumper, and one which has been cannibalized for now for parts since we dinna have you, Radek or any of your engineers to actually fix it from the damaged it sustained soon after we got here. It's the one we're using for the gate post."

"Cannibalized how?" Rodney started to ask. "And who in the hell, if you don't have any engineers –"

"I wasn't always ignoring you when you droned on about the jumper systems, Rodney. Not to mention I have two pieces of paper, from Stanford and the Air Force Academy, that let me call myself an engineer."

"You're service record said nothing about a degree from the Academy!" Rodney protested, the outrage easy to draw upon to hide how he was actually feeling from the sound of John's voice. He turned away from Carson to find that John had managed to talk someone else into finding him a metal fitting that worked as a crutch.

Despite the cast around his foot and a hint of strain around John's eyes from either the standing or the injury itself, John looked good. Tired but pleased with himself beyond his dodge with Carson. Like he was happy about what he'd been accomplishing here, and maybe also happy to see Rodney.

Not that John was going to express that in any normal manner.

"You obviously haven't hacked into it recently there, buddy," John laughed at him – at pulling one over on Rodney too. "I finished up my thesis while I was recovering from those two holes in my side last year, and took care of the rest during my leave back on Earth after debriefing about that mess with the Coalition."

"Thesis about what?" Rodney squawked, more than willing to play this game. "Who handled the peer review? Why didn't I –"

"Actually, Rodney, I think I'm the one to be asking questions now, like what are you doing out of bed, man?" Carson interrupted. "The two of you will have plenty of time to play catch up."

"That true, Rodney?" John asked Rodney casually. Too casually, while his eyes were asking so much more.

Rodney nodded, hoping that John could see his sincerity, knowing that he'd still have some explaining to do and some apologizing. "Yeah, John. This time I'm home for good."

– finis –


End file.
